“Less than three years,” she said. “But I can guarantee he’ll satisfy you.”
“Yes, well, that’s what you told me about the last one, isn’t it?”
“Oh, but I’m sure, despite his many flaws, Fenrir Snow satisfied you just fine, did he not?” She smirked at him knowingly.
Good. She had been listening in on his call with Fiora right before appearing. He hated wasting his efforts.
“The female has been with us the longest. She was a favorite at Eye Candy but requested something permanent going forward. That’s why we’ve added her. Unless that bothers you?”
“It doesn’t.” Before Fenrir, Oberon had never cared about how many bedpartners a person took. “People who judge that sort of thing have pathetically low self-esteem. But we can skip her anyway. I’ll sleep with women occasionally, but I prefer male partners.”
“Then that leaves Raffiel.” She pointed to the man at the end, leaning in closer to Oberon to be heard over the auctioneer below as he rattled off information about the first in line, a male alpha, to the crowd. “He’s a bit shy, quiet. Not anything like Fenrir. If you’re looking for someone to make you feel better, he would be my suggestion.”
“Why is that?” O noted the man on stage had a blank expression on his face. Almost like he was zoning out to avoid acknowledging where he was or why. It was obvious he was one of the unlucky ones who’d been sold into this life. The kind of person Fenrir hoped to rescue, for lack of a better word.
Michelle grinned at him viciously. “He’s pretty when he cries.”
“I do have a thing for tears.” When they were Fenrir’s, and when it was brought on by sheer ecstasy while the omega writhed beneath him. “How old—”
Michelle’s multi-slate chimed, interrupting them, and she hit the accept button without bothering to switch to the earbud attachment, which would have made the call private. “Yes, Trick?”
“We have a problem,” Trick’s gruff voice came through the speaker.
“Oh?” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“It’s under control, but you should get here.”
“Later. I’m with Mr. King discussing his compensation.”
“Mitch.”
The use of the odd nickname instantly had Michelle bristling, and Oberon was reminded of what Fenrir had told him about how the two of them hooked up.
“I’ll be right there,” she replied.
Oberon grabbed onto her wrist when she ended the call and moved to leave. “Is this how you treat all your important clients?”
“I apologize, Mr. King, but it appears there’s an emergency that requires my immediate attention. I’ll tell you what, how about you take both male omegas. How does that sound?”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re desperate to get rid of me?”
“I assure you, it’s nothing of the sort.” She cleared her throat. “I’m needed elsewhere. Surely as a business owner yourself, you understand. If we have an agreement, I can have both omegas pulled from the stage immediately and brought to you.”
“Have them delivered to the same room I used last time I was here,” Oberon instructed.
“Is that really necessary?”
“Forgive me, but the trust has already been broken. I’d like to fully test the products before I even entertain the idea of bringing them to my home.” Since this was also a permanent sale, his request wasn’t that outside of the norm, meaning she wouldn’t be able to come up with a good enough excuse to reject him.
Oberon couldn’t leave now, not when Trick had sounded so cryptic on the call.
Was there a chance they’d…No.
No. Fenrir was clever. He’d never get caught by the likes of them.
…Right?
The problem was, the two of them had been apart too long. If Oberon felt this antsy, that must mean Fenrir was feeling it too. If his anxiety affected his Shout side…